


Call Sign: Valkyrie

by ValkyriaRising



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Background Relationships, Blackwatch, Blackwatch Era, Blackwatch shenanigans, Blood and Violence, Drunk Sex, Eventual Smut, F/M, Flashbacks, Fluff and Smut, Friends to Lovers, Multi, Poly!McReyes, Polyamory, Post-Fall of Overwatch, Pre-Fall of Overwatch, Recall (Overwatch), Reunion Sex, Smut, background anahardt, background pharmercy - Freeform, mcreyes - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-13
Updated: 2018-11-07
Packaged: 2019-05-24 09:33:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 21,950
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14952140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ValkyriaRising/pseuds/ValkyriaRising
Summary: Valkyrie: derived from the Old Norse wordvalkyrjaor "chooser of the slain"; female warriors responsible for choosing those that lived and died on battlefieldsValeriya was known for sweeping into battles before disappearing in the blink of an eye, the only evidence she was ever there being the trail of bodies left in her wake. That's how she got her name, after all—a deadly assassin with lives placed in her hands and the ability to choose what she was going to do with them. She had lost everything, gotten some of it back, and yet, everything she had rebuilt was already threatening to disappear again, no matter how hard she tried to hold on. She watched her mother, her sister, Blackwatch, and finally Overwatch slip through her fingers.Gabriel Reyes was her mentor, Jesse McCree was her savior, and yet, loss was her oldest friend.





	1. Through the Ghost

**Author's Note:**

> More about Val can be found on my tumblr: blackwxtchmccree. I've been wanting to write Val's story out for so long and I finally got around to it. Feedback is welcome and appreciated!

**2076**

The watchpoint felt old.

Valeriya had only stepped away for 5 years—since Overwatch had fallen. Yet, as she walked the halls, she felt like a ghost. She thought she would never return, thought she would never look out the window and see _that_ ocean or _that_ tower again, but standing on the roof now, hindsight has and always will be 20/20. 

_She_ felt old. 

She could hear Jesse laughing now—a deep sound she was ever so familiar with and never got tired of hearing. He was 3 years her senior at the ripe age of 37 and she could easily picture the look on his rugged face had she said that out loud. She wondered if her age showed—she was only 34, but felt like she had already lived and seen enough to last her a lifetime. Scars marked her skin and a grim disposition had settled into her eyes after all of the years of combat and bloodshed. 

Jesse said she looked haunted—she said they all were. 

Leaning against the railing, Val closed her violet eyes, letting the sea breeze grace her face, sweeping through her silver-white hair. It was a familiar feeling—one that used to bring her comfort years ago. Now it felt emptier, but the warmth was still there, whispering promises of spring and renewal in her ears. She was sure if she remained quiet, it would echo laughter back at her, a reflection of the times she, Jesse, and Genji often got drunk on that very rooftop before missions, staring at the stars and silently promising they would return. 

The first few times they had hidden the bottles of whiskey the best they could, but the alcohol on their breath and Jesse’s slurred suffixes always gave them away to Reyes. Not that it mattered—he often joined them, only to make fun of them the next day when they had to drag their hungover asses onto the transport. Val’s head usually found its way into Jesse’s lap as he groaned, head tilted back and hat over his face. Genji, however, rarely suffered like they did, his mostly mechanical body doing him a favor for once. 

They grew more responsible as they got older, or more tired, Val realized, and maybe a little bit more concerned for their lives and the lives of their teammates. They were all stuck in hell, but at least they were stuck together—the alternative, whether it be jail or death or hypothermia and prostitution, was much worse. 

A featherlight touch on her back caused Val to open her eyes, throwing a glance over her left shoulder as her favorite cowboy appeared by her side, his stealthy approach successful, but not unexpected. She turned her attention back to the ocean, leaning her small shoulder against his broad one as he propped himself up beside her, matching her stance. 

“You know, this is the last place I stood after I signed the papers that effectively shut down Overwatch,” she murmured, voice softer than she intended, but McCree’s hearing was just as keen as it had always been, picking up on the melancholy in her voice. “Maybe they should’ve picked everything apart like vultures. I should’ve left—let them take and say whatever they wanted.”

“No one else was left to do it, ya know that,” he reminded her, his rich brown eyes following her gaze out across the water. “I’m almost glad ya didn’ give ‘em the vindication they wanted.” 

“But at what cost? Blackwatch was exposed, Morrison and Amari were ‘dead’,” she emphasized the word almost bitterly. “And here we stand again in the exact place we started and every time I step inside I feel like I’m suffocating. This isn’t home anymore. We shouldn’t be here.” There was a long pause. Jesse gently rubbed comforting circles on her lower back, eyes scanning her face, knowing what she was gonna say next. 

“I can still feel him here.” 

“Me, too.” The cowboy’s reply was soft, but not without emphasis. 

They had been avoiding acknowledging the feeling since they had stepped off of the transport. Val felt it as soon as her foot met the pavement—a chill that ran up her spine and settled in the pit of her stomach, wracking her body in a way that made her almost sick. She didn’t have time to focus on it, as she was greeted by Angela and Reinhardt, the Crusader, who greeted her as boisterously as if he hadn’t just seen her 3 weeks prior for their monthly brunch. 

But she felt it—an emptiness in the air and the halls. What was left of her commander had remained at Gibraltar, but it wasn’t enough to fill the hole in her heart. She was haunted by the ghost of Gabriel Reyes. 

_They_ were haunted by the ghost of Gabriel Reyes. 

Val had noticed the hardness that had snuck into Jesse’s eyes; a look he had equipped for a long while after he lost his arm, but a look she hadn’t seen in the years since then. He had remained quiet about it all, but even his normally relaxed posture had stiffened in their meager 12 hours at the watchpoint so far, like he was on high alert. 

The cowboy was chewing on his unlit cigar now, undecided as to whether he should light it or throw it into the ocean for the sake of poignancy. Val could see the internal debate reflected on his taut countenance and eventually he settled on just shoving it in his pocket, giving a dissatisfied grunt. Another long pause followed suit and the pair watched the sun grow closer to the horizon. 

Now the nostalgia was hitting her, especially with Jesse by her side again—how it should’ve been the last time she stood in this exact spot, but he had disappeared 6 months prior, taking a piece of her heart with him and leaving Gabe dumbfounded and devastated. Next thing she knew, just a mere 6 months later, Gabe was dead, Jack was “dead”, and she was left to silently grieve as the public threw insults and insinuations her way. 

She couldn’t definitively say that she got true closure, but she doesn’t cry about it anymore, even after those feelings resurfaced upon seeing Jack and Ana again, standing outside the landing terminal when she and Jesse had arrived. There was a break in her stride when she locked eyes with Ana, the sniper’s brown eyes issuing a silent apology. Jack’s face was blank and he couldn’t meet her gaze, putting his visor back on his face. Jesse had coaxed her onward, quietly murmuring how now wasn’t the time to dwell—they had more important things to do. 

While he wasn’t wrong, she couldn’t help, but be angry. Her brow furrowed as the memory of her silently crying in Gabe’s office after Switzerland, curled up in his chair with paperwork stacked before her came to the forefront of her mind. The same tight feeling was enveloping her chest now; she could almost smell him, a scent burned into her brain just as much as Jesse’s was.

“Thinkin’ about it won’t bring him back,” Jesse murmured, noticing the pained look on her pale face and breaking her train of thought. “And it won’t make it any easier to forgive ‘em.” He nodded his head towards the tower, referring to Jack and Ana. 

She shrugged and sighed, pushing off the railing and gently grabbing his red serape, pulling him with her and giving him a small, reassuring smile. He smiled in return, giving a small laugh and following in her footsteps.

“Come on—I think Reinhardt is making dumplings and I want in on that.”

***

Most of the people contacted by Winston had arrived in the days prior to Jesse and Val’s arrival, with Lena being put in charge of getting the watchpoint back into a livable order—a surprising, but not unwelcome assignment on Winston’s part. The girl seemed to liven the place up, zipping here and there like she used to. She had just come dashing out of the kitchen as Val and Jesse entered, carrying the scent of fresh food with her.

“There they are,” Lena cooed when she spotted them. “Told you they didn’t run off.”

“Was that in doubt,” Val questioned, somewhat concerned as she slipped off her jacket and headed towards the kitchen. 

“Reinhardt just needed to know how many people he was feeding,” she replied earnestly, nodding towards the kitchen, voices echoing through the open doorway. “And Winston has your room assignment.”  
“Does Emily know you’re here,” Jesse inquired lightheartedly, tipping his hat in her direction as he followed Val. 

“I told her I was going to see some friends,” the pilot shrugged as she blinked across the living room, stopping just inside the doorway. “Not technically a lie—just gonna be some world saving thrown in there, too.” With that, she disappeared into the hallway. Jesse huffed in amusement and the two made their way towards the sound of clinking pans and Reinhardt’s laughter. 

The smell of dumplings cooking, and the sight of Ana, Angela, and Reinhardt conversing as if nothing had changed caused another painful wave of nostalgia and familiarity to hit Val. She reached back for Jesse’s flesh hand, and he took hers gently, giving it a reassuring squeeze that he was there. His face seemed to reflect a feeling akin to contentment, but Val could see the distressed cognizance bubbling in the deep brown of his eyes. 

“Find anything you haven’t seen before,” Ana asked as they entered, a small smile gracing her lips as she sipped from her mug—most likely black tea with a bit of honey, if Val remembered correctly.  
  
“Some cobwebs, a flock of seagulls, and a couple of ghosts,” Jesse teased lightheartedly, taking the sniper’s hand and placing a kiss on the back of it. “Wasn’t a believer until jus’ now, but I’d reckon there isn’t a prettier ghost out there than you.” 

“Nice to see his charm hasn’t faded,” Ana laughed, turning towards Val and returning her greeting, kissing her gently on each cheek. “And I see he’s managed to keep a hold of you.” 

“Of course, мати (mother),” Val smiled—her first genuine smile since they had arrived, though it was tinged with grief. “What would he do without me?”

“Get into more trouble, in all likelihood,” Reinhardt chimed in, eyeing Jesse teasingly as he scooped the dumplings out of the pot on the stove. “Or get lost—whichever comes first.” The cowboy shook his head, taking a seat across from Ana at the built-in table. Val snorted in amusement, nodding in greeting towards Angela as she took a seat beside the doctor. 

“Where’s Fareeha,” Val asked Zeigler quietly once she sat down, trying not to draw Ana’s attention. “Does she know?”

“Not yet, no,” Angela replied with a sad smile as she leaned in. “She’ll be here in a few days. I hear Genji’s on his way back, too, with a friend.”

“Who convinced him?”

“Oxton, I believe. When told you and Jesse were on the way he seemed a little more… persuaded.” 

That made Val genuinely smile again—she had visited him in Nepal a few times in the last 5 years, twice in the three years since she and Jesse had reunited, but if Angela was talking about the friend that Val knew she was, not everyone would be as perceptive and accepting as they needed to be in times like these. The reformation of Overwatch was dangerous as is and their situation was precariously in conflict with world affairs and public opinion; they needed as few setbacks as possible. 

“Eat up, jeder (everyone),” Reinhardt boomed proudly, distributing bowls with steaming hot dumplings to everyone before taking a seat at the head of the table beside Ana. 

“Wait, what about Lena,” Jesse chimed in, looking over Ana’s shoulder at the door just as it slid open. 

“Don’t worry I’m here—just had to bring sheets to your room,” the pilot called as she blinked through the door and smoothly slid into the seat beside Val, her golden brown eyes full of a refreshing life Val hadn’t seen in a long time. “Someone needs to bring some to Brigitte and Torbjörn in the workshop—I couldn’t convince them to leave.”

“I’ll go,” Val snorted, unsurprised. “Nice to see Brigitte takes after her father in that regard, I suppose.” McCree eyed her from down the table, raising a questioning eyebrow as he passed her a bowl, unsure of why she would offer to do an errand across the watchpoint. She nodded her head in the direction of the workshop and it took a moment, but his brows furrowed when he realized what else was in that direction. Val saw the look of disapproval and doubt flash across his face and she shrugged sadly, turning her gaze to her bowl. 

They ate in silence and Val had to keep herself from scarfing down her food—her nerves kept her from eating all day and she would kill for Reinhardt’s dumplings. She was also spurred by an anxious excitement. While she may not be emotionally ready for what she was about to undertake, she might as well get it out of the way; she couldn’t stay away for much longer. 

Jesse took her bowl once they both finished, rinsing and putting them both away before fixing two more for Torb and Brigitte. She noticed Ana grab another bowl and fill it up, sneaking out with it before Jesse had finished washing their dishes. She could only assume it was for Jack. They both thanked Reinhardt and said their goodbyes to everyone before they exited; Val threw on her jacket before they headed outside into the dark, bowls in hand. 

“Are ya sure about this, pumpkin,” McCree inquired, concern dripping in his tone. She bumped her hip against his playfully as they walked.

“We can’t avoid it forever—and who knows, we might find something useful.” 

“How much was left behind after everything was shut down?”

“Enough.” She left it at that. In truth, she didn’t really know—she knew all of the small furniture had been sold and anything the agents left behind was trashed, but she was hoping that there was something. Maybe even something that reminded her of him—something that would give her closure. It’s either that, or Jesse was right and all this would do is open old wounds. 

The pair headed down the stairs and out into the darkness, making their way across the watchpoint. Val could see lights glowing inside the windows of the workshop across the courtyard and a shadow moving on the other side, of which she assumed belonged to Brigitte, who was easily a foot taller than her father. They approached the door and it slid open, light flooding through and highlighting the ground outside. Both Torbjörn and Brigitte looked up as they entered, the taller girl holding a wrench and seemingly disassembling a turret sitting on the workbench in front of her. 

“Hej (hello)! McCree! Val,” Brigitte chirped, putting down her tools and slipping her gloves off as they stepped inside, noticing the bowls they were holding. “I guess we missed dinner?”

“I told Reinhardt not to bother—I’m busy,” Torb said in a dissatisfied huff, pushing boxes around, his eyes scanning the shelves of a nearby tool rack. 

“Papa come on, take a break—it couldn’t hurt,” Brigitte sighed, taking the bowls from McCree and thrusting one into her father’s hand as he reached for a hammer on one of the shelves. “And you love Reinhardt’s dumplings—as much as you like to deny it.” 

“You’re fixin’ our armor—can’t have ya doin’ that on an empty stomach,” McCree huffed lightheartedly, nodding towards Brigitte’s outstretched hand. 

The man begrudgingly accepted the bowl and silverware from his daughter, propping himself against the desk and plucking food out of the bowl. Brigitte dug in wholeheartedly, nearly swallowing the steamed dough whole as she munched. There was a long pause as they ate in silence. 

Val examined the workshop, scanning all of the tools and various apparatuses that hung on the walls above each of the work benches. It seemed the two engineers had gotten the holovids up and running as well, as they flashed various weapon and armor designs across the screens, including the plans for her teleporting daggers and McCree’s mechanical arm. 

“Reinhardt’s outdone himself again,” the younger Lindholm hummed once she finished, setting her empty bowl aside. “Give my compliments to the chef—and thanks for bringing it by.” Torb grunted in appreciation once he finished before going back to scouring the shelves. Brigitte suppressed a sigh, apologizing for her father’s manners, to which Val and McCree confirmed they were used to it and remind her that he hasn’t changed too much since his Overwatch days, which got them both a disapproving look from her father. 

Having completed their errand, the cowboy and the assassin both said their goodbyes and made their way back out the door, maybe a little too hastily, leaving the Lindholm’s to their work. They headed towards the back of th watchpoint, the chill in the air sending a chill down Val’s spine as they made their way across the hanger. 

Jesse opened his mouth to ask her one more time if she was really ready for this, but once that ever familiar logo on the back wall came into sight, she smiled, her steps becoming rushed until she was sprinting, around the corner and down the long, empty halls of the former Overwatch barracks into the Blackwatch barracks just behind them.

Jesse bolted after her, their footsteps and the rattling of his spurs echoing off of the aged metal walls around them. They had walked, stumbled, and sprinted down these halls more times than they could count. This time felt no different—everything felt as if the room surrounding them were still filled with Blackwatch agents, as if Moira was still in her lab tinkering with some strand of DNA or Gabe was still in his office doing paperwork or walking the halls yelling at his recruits to get their asses out of bed and get to morning drills. It felt as if this was just another day where they were on their way to Gabe’s office to bring him coffee and try to rope him into taking a break to spend time with them. That became a common occurrence towards the end of their days, as he was locked in his office often despite his lovers’ protests, even after Val became his second in command and took on some of his paperwork. 

She eventually slowed to a walk as they reached the end of the hallway, her breathing labored. She ran a hand along the wall, the metal cold and the scratches rough under her fingertips. McCree watched her, noticing a bit of light had returned to her violet eyes for the first time in years and a small smile graced his lips as he followed just behind her, hanging a left when she did. His room was closest, so he assumed that’s where she was headed first and he was correct when she took another left, heading down that hallway to the second to last door on the right. 

Val pulled one of her daggers from her belt, the blade glowing purple and sending a wave of electricity up her forearm when she activated it and shimmied it into the crease between the door and the wall, pressing it in the opposite direction. McCree grabbed the door once she created enough of a gap, pulling it open so that Val could slide inside and hold the door for him. He followed suit, ducking inside the dark room and looking around. 

It was dark, but the light from Val’s dagger bathed the room in an eerie purple glow and he looked around, sneezing thanks to the dust their footsteps kicked up. The bed and the desk in the far corner were all that remained, both of which had been stripped of anything that had once sat on top of them, evidence of the past being stripped with them. 

This room held plenty of memories, though— from their first night together, to where they collapsed after their drunken escapades on the roof or where they curled up against each other after a long mission, Val’s aching legs unwilling to carry her back to her room.

Val looked over at her best friend, who was now standing in the middle of the room with his hat clutched to his chest, tears welling up in his eyes. She moved towards him, ducking under his flesh arm and wrapping her arm around his waist, nuzzling his chest in an attempt to comfort him, but McCree turned his head away from her, hating when she saw him cry. 

“I guess I never asked whether you were ready to come back here, did I,” Val murmured turning towards him, reaching up and cupping Jesse’s face, his beard tickling her palms as she brushed his tears away with her thumbs. He shook his head, taking a shaky breath before pulling her hands off of his face and pressing gentle kisses to her palms and then placing one on her forehead.  
“Come on—we put bets on whether that bottle of Jack is still hidden in my room and I think we could both use a drink.”

They slipped out of the room quietly, making their way much more slowly to Val’s old room, which was a little further down the main hall. They entered the same way they got into Jesse’s old room and found hers to be in the same state, with only the desk and bed remaining. While it upset her, to see that her room for over 10 years had been dismantled, it didn’t quite upset her like she expected. To her, it was just a room—they were still alive and after some difficulty still together, so she considered that a win, especially after over a decade at war. So, her room remained a room that they just happened to have spent some time in together. 

Walking over to her bed, Val bent down and slid under the mattress, feeling around between the springs until her fingers brushed glass. She hummed triumphantly, grabbing the neck of the bottle and pulling it out, handing it back towards McCree before accepting his outstretched hand so she could get back on her feet. 

“One last drunken night,” Jesse asked and she nodded. Where they were headed—they would need it. 

The cowboy quickly opened the bottle, taking a swig before passing it to her. She tipped the bottle up, taking a swig, feeling the whiskey burn down the back of her throat. They eventually stepped out again, but Val lingered in the doorway, looking over her shoulder, expecting to find something that would convince her not to leave yet, but the room was silent and dark, just as it had been when they had gotten there. 

The pair once again headed down the hallway, passing the bottle back and forth, their footsteps slowing when they got closer to the last and final place they had in mind—a place they were both tied to, in both body and spirit, if there is such a thing. Val was no believer and Jesse kept his own ideals to himself, but each of them knew they left part of themselves in this room when they left. She glanced at him uneasily, and they both took a drink from the bottle before opening the door, sliding inside hesitantly. 

Gabe’s room was completely empty—the bed and all were gone and the floor and walls were completely bare. The air was cold and musty, adding to the lifelessness that seemed to hang in the atmosphere. Val looked around, drawing in a sharp breath, her brow furrowing in anguish when she realized that whatever she had been hoping to find wasn’t here. Jesse followed her gaze, resting his gloved hand on the wall, hoping maybe he’d feel what was left of Gabriel Reyes here, but the wall was cold and the air seemed to burn in his lungs every time he breathed in. With old wounds reopened, they were lowly bleeding out; ghosts were clawing at their backs and there were holes in their hearts that only a dead man could fill. An unfortunate situation, some might say. 

“I wanted to ask Jack if there was any way Gabe survived the explosion at Switzerland since he himself managed to, but-” Jesse interrupted her, grimacing at the mention of the former Overwatch commander as he handed her the bottle. 

“He knew about our relationship—I’d like to think he would’ve told us if that were the case.” Val nodded in agreement, taking a drink, the edges of her vision blurring as the alcohol set in. Though they were loathe to admit it, especially to Jack, it seems they both wished Switzerland had ended differently—that their beloved commander had survived instead. That would’ve made the last few years different, easier. After Gabe died, Val spent far too much time laying in bed alone wondering how everything would have turned out if she had gotten the ending she wanted, but it had always been and still was beyond her control. 

Movement to her right drew her out of her own head, and she watched as McCree opened the closet, surprised when he bent down to reach for something and pulled out a small box, dragging it across the floor to the center of the room. Val bent down, exchanging an unsure look with Jesse before hesitantly taking the blade of one of her daggers to the tape across the seam at the top. She flipped open the cardboard flaps, afraid of what was inside, but instead her heart skipped a beat. Jesse followed Val’s gaze, his eyes falling on one of Gabe’s old sweatshirts, neatly folded at the bottom of the box, buried under a notebook and what looked like some of Gabe’s older medals of honor and service ribbons. Val brushed the decorations aside, running her hands along the fabric of his sweatshirt before pulling it out. 

The smell of gunpowder and sandalwood hit her like a freight train and a strangled sob passed her lips, tears finally spilling over as she buried her face in his sweatshirt. The scent was faint, but still caused every painful memory and feeling she had buried since Gabe’s death to flood back into her head and her heart all at once. 

She knew coming back to the watchpoint would hurt—she knew stepping foot back here was a mistake, but the world’s safety was dropped at her doorstep and she wasn’t one to ignore a call for help.  
But right now, none of that mattered. Her head and her heart were screaming at her to run and hide—convincing her that she should’ve let Overwatch burn when it was in her hands as revenge for taking away one of the two things she truly loved in her life. She hated Jack just for the fact that he was alive and Gabe wasn’t. She hated Overwatch for taking putting his life in danger in the first place. She hated herself for not trying harder to convince him not to go that day. She had begged him to stay with her, to just let Jack go and deal with the diplomats like he always did, but Gabe had said they needed him there—that their future was in jeopardy and he needed to make sure Blackwatch was safe from whatever plan Morrison had for them all. 

Jesse wished he had been there. He regretted leaving 6 months before the fall—regretted not being there when Val needed him the most. He had seen the news of what happened at Switzerland on the news and drank himself into a stupor that night, laughing and sobbing at the desert wondering if he had stayed, then maybe he could’ve helped convince Reyes to stay put at the Watchpoint. He had thought of Val and how she was probably just as heartbroken, crying by herself in her bed that night wondering what she’d done to end up alone again. He hadn’t meant to hurt her, but he was cursed and he didn’t want that curse to fall on her. He loved her too much for that. Yet, here she was again by his side and it seemed like a waiting game before death took her, too. 

McCree leaned towards Val, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her against his chest as she cried, forcing back tears of his own as he leaned back against the wall, pressing kisses into her silver-white hair. Val clutched Gabe’s sweatshirt to her chest tightly, as if it would disappear into thin air if she didn’t, her chest shuttering as she cried into Jesse’s serape. The cowboy just tipped his head back, resting it against the wall as a tear slipped from his eye, too, but he bit back a sob, running a gentle hand down Val’s back in an attempt to calm her down. 

While they didn’t know how long they sat there holding each other, they wondered if the pain would fade—if it would ever become any easier to deal with losing a third of themselves. Nothing in their lives had ever been certain except that they were haunted by Gabriel Reyes and that old wounds may heal, but they never fade.


	2. Second Chance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Valeriya's life from a young age had been filled with devastation and instability. Two people gave her a chance to change that.

**2060; Kiev, Ukraine**

The first time Valeriya met Gabriel Reyes and Jesse McCree, it was snowing.

January had been exceptionally cold so far that year and just days before her birthday, it had begun to flurry—showing few signs of letting up. She stood quietly under the eave of a nearby abandoned apartment complex, shivering and pulling her sleeves over her gloved hands before tucking them under her arms. The small assault rifle she had on hand sat against the decrepit wall next to her leg, frost having gathered on the metal barrel and bayonet. It was older tech, circa 2030, but their resources were limited and she had people to protect.

She looked up and down the frozen street, squinting in an attempt to see through the falling snow, but to no avail. A gust of wind swept past her, bringing flakes along with it and she tucked herself further against the wall, blinking in an attempt to clear the frost that was gathering on her eyelashes. She didn’t know what was taking her sister so long, but she was prepared to do the patrol alone, even if she knew it was going to be dangerous.

A few minutes passed as she looked back and forth, the light slowly fading from behind the clouds in the sky. Though electricity to the poorer side of the city was limited, somehow the streetlamps managed to come on every night, highlighting a figure approaching from down the street. Val stood up straighter once she spotted the figure, grabbing the gun at her side and tucking it under her arm in preparation, every muscle poised to strike in case of attack. These streets weren’t safe for anyone—human, omnic, animal, especially at night. Everyone was out to benefit from harming everyone else. It’s why they had set up these patrols—why they had joined the small community her sister found in order to keep them safe.

Once she caught a glimpse of long, silver-white hair similar in color to her shorter cut hair; however, she relaxed, resting an unamused hand on her hip.

  
“Alina, you were supposed to be here 30 minutes ago,” Val all, but hissed in annoyance, eyeing her sister once Alina reached her side, another assault rifle in her hands as well. The taller girl smiled, playfully elbowing her younger sister in the side as she passed, not skipping a step.

“Вибачте (sorry)! They couldn’t find the extra blankets we stole for the newly born twins and I didn’t want them to freeze to death,” Alina chirped, looking over her shoulder to make sure Val was following.

“Fair enough. How’re they doing,” Val asked, regretting her previous tone and lengthening her stride to keep up with her sister, their boots crunching in the fresh snow. “Has Anastasia’s fever gone down?”

“As far as Dr. Kolarov can tell the twins are doing well, but Anastasia’s fever hasn’t disappeared, so she’s still concerned,” Alina replied, rounding the next corner onto a darker street, clutching the rifle she was holding closer to her chest, finger resting steadily on the trigger. “And no, they haven’t chosen names yet.”

“Oh давай (come on), I held her hand while she was giving birth—one of them should be named after me, at least,” Val snorted, shrugging when her sister rolled her eyes. “Honestly, after seeing what she went through—makes me never want to have kids.”

“Not in these conditions, no,” Alina murmured solemnly, her eyes scanning the deserted road that stretched in front of them. “It wouldn’t be fair to them, but Anastasia didn’t really have much of a choice.”

Val couldn’t deny that. Since the end of the Omnic Crisis, the Ukrainian government had been putting itself back together piece by piece and taking its sweet time doing so—time that it’s citizens didn’t have. Most couldn’t find work and the poorer areas of the city were still in ruins, bullets holes filling the walls and buildings lying in shambles, providing little shelter to those that once lived there. They had very little food, the river had been polluted and poisoned, thus clean water was a rarity, and the government only spent money protecting the richer parts of the city from rogue omnics. That’s why she and her sister were patrolling—to make sure no rogue omnics got too close to their people. The government wasn’t going to help them, so they had to help themselves.

They had taken refuge in the local cathedral—Saint Sophia, if Val recalled correctly, whose landmark status used to draw thousands of visitors a day to take in it’s beautiful religious decorum, but now it wasn’t much more than a ruin of what it once was—with cracked walls and broken glass being it’s new key features. She wasn’t a believer—she stopped believing the day her mother died when she was only 7, but she was glad that they had somewhere to call home, at least.

Movement up ahead caused both girls to look up, freezing in place with rifles at the ready—the only noticeable shift the shaking of the nearby bushes that, while they were bare, were obscured in shadows, thus the two sister couldn’t make out what was causing the commotion. Seconds later a scrawny striped cat came jumping out, dashing across the road and through a crevice in the wall of a nearby building.

“Poor thing must be freezing and starving,” Alina sighed, her brows furrowing as she lowered her rifle. “Let’s see if we can catch it—maybe bring it back and give it something to eat.”

“We already have enough mouths to feed, Alina,” Val reminded her, reaching to grab her sister’s arm as Alina headed in the direction the cat went. “We can’t really afford another one.”

“Maybe, but we could use a mouser—she’d be pulling her weight at least,” Alina replied, shaking off Val’s hand and continuing towards the building. Val sighed in defeat, following her perceptive sister through the crack in the wall and into the shelter of the abandoned building, slipping between the crumbling brickwork and out of the viciously frigid wind.

The room they stepped into was mostly empty, give or take a broken desk in the far corner under a shattered window and a fair share of loose bricks that had fallen from the ceiling—hardly a good sign, but Val hoped that as long as they didn’t make any sudden movement, the building would at least hold until they left. They both looked around for signs of other life forms and Val caught a glimpse of a tail disappearing into the room to their right.

Alina pushed in front of her younger sister protectively, following the trail, but once they reached the doorway, Val stopped, an intense feeling of dread and uncertainty rising in the pit of her stomach. She rarely got feelings like this, but her instincts had yet to fail her.

“Alina, wait,” Val whispered, grabbing the sleeve of her sister’s thick jacket and pulling her back. “Something’s not right. We need to leave.”

“No one’s here,” Alina replied, jerking her hand away and turning back around. “We won’t be here long we just have to bring the cat back.”

“No, Alin-Alina,” Val hesitated, trying to grab her sister again, but missing. “I’m serious.”

Alina waved Val off, her figure fading to a silhouette in the darkness of the next room. Val stepped quietly after her, looking around cautiously, feeling the hair on the back of her neck rise. Something was off, but she wasn’t sure what. Turning the corner, she followed Alina’s shadow, glancing in every direction, her heart skipping a beat every time something or someone shifted.

“Here, кошеня (kitty),” Val heard Alina coo, extending her hand towards the cat, who sat at the base of a set of stairs on the other side of the room. The feline approached cautiously, jumping back when her nose met the tip of Alina’s fingertips, causing Val to jump, too.

“Next time she gets close, see if you can pick her up,” Alina advised, tucking her rifle to her side and sitting down, trying to coax the striped tabby to come closer again.

“Oh, she’s gonna love me,” Val snorted sarcastically, looking everywhere, but where the cat was, the feeling in her stomach becoming stronger the longer they stood there.

“Once she realizes you were trying to h-,” but Val didn’t hear the rest of the sentence—her gaze finally meeting what her mind and body had been warning her about. Four red, glowing eyes peered at them from the stairwell, the machine’s gaze predatory and it’s body poised to strike.

Everything that happened next felt like it happened in slow motion and in a rush all at once—she still had nightmares about it from time to time.

Val couldn’t warn her sister fast enough, but Alina got the hint when the poor cat sprinted past her sister and out the door behind them, the fur on it’s back standing straight up. By the time Alina looked up, Val had already pulled the trigger as the OR14 bot lunged for them, bullets ricocheting off of it’s rusted, but still protective outer armor and falling to the ground. The room lit up a bright orange when the omnic produced a blade long enough to rival Val’s height from it’s arm, thrusting it towards the older sister, but Val grabbed the back of her jacket, pulling Alina past her and practically throwing her towards the door before turning on her heel and following.

The OR14 chased them into the next room, swiping at them with the blade whenever it felt it was close enough, it’s heavy footsteps causing the building to shake. Val felt the blade barely miss her neck, causing adrenaline to shoot through her body when the prospect of death crossed her mind, spurring her to move faster. Taking a sharp turn, they headed back toward the front of the building, beelining for the crevice in the wall that would take them back to the main road and into an area where they both could shoot without worry about hitting the other. That was the plan, anyway—a plan devised when their terrified gazes met the other’s.

But all plans are tentative—fate is a fickle mistress.

Val felt her booted foot hit a fallen brick and she hit the ground hard, sliding and colliding with the nearby wall, her rifle sliding out of her reach. Looking up, her vision blurry and her ears ringing from the impact, she made out a machine gun pointed at her, ready to fire, and the bullet hole filled face of an angry Omnic staring down at her, wires protruding from the sides of its face and sending sparks into the cold air. Ducking down, she covered her head, squeezing her eyes shut and hoping it would end soon, but while she heard bullets being fired, she felt no pain.

Looking up, peering through the dust they had kicked up, Val made out her sister standing in front of her, clutching her chest before slumping to the ground, the OR14 bot still pointing it’s steaming gun at her. Val tried to call out to Alina, reach for her, but another volley of gunfire and yelling caused her to duck back down as more dust and pieces of rubble fell from the ceiling. She only moved once she saw the red eyes of the omnic turn towards the commotion, crawling over to her sister and shaking her.

Val felt the warmth of the fresh blood soak through her gloves and her world came crashing down.

She could see the bullet wounds scattered across Alina’s upper body even before the dust settled and she felt tears well up in her eyes, spilling over as she shook her sister, hoping maybe there was some thread of life still clinging somewhere inside.

“A-Alina you can’t do this—you can’t leave me here alone,” Val cried, shakily pulling off her jacket and pressing it on the wounds, watching as blood easily flooded the fabric. “I lost mom—I can’t lose you, too. _Please_. будь ласка (please).”

She was met with silence, prompting another sob to pass her lips, more tears streaming down her face.

“Alina…”

Again, silence.

True silence, this time, as whoever had distracted the OR14 had quieted down, too. The gunfire had ceased and the ground had stilled, leaving Val in what felt like purgatory, a dangerous emptiness lodging itself inside of her. The dust had settled and she could see the extent of the damage—it made her sick to her stomach and she reached up, closing her sister’s lifeless eyes with a bloodied hand. There was no coming back—not from what Alina had just saved her from. Fresh tears found their way to the surface and she let them spill over silently, reaching down to take her sister’s gloved hand, wishing it was the other way around and she was lying lifeless on the ground.

Val was only drawn out of her devastated haze when she heard footsteps approaching. She was hardly in the mood to talk to anyone, but she could only assume these were her saviors and she at least owed them a thank you, even if she hardly had any will left to live at this point.

“Looks like one of them survived,” a gentle, but sturdy and distinctly American voice reached her, echoing from the other side of the room. The figure it belonged to was growing closer, but Val couldn’t quite make out any features yet, the surrounding darkness of the night still present.

“We shoulda been faster,” another voice, slightly more accented with what Val vaguely recognized as a western-American accent, replied, seemingly disappointed. “We knew it was here.”

“We didn’t know anyone was even in this part of town,” the man speaking finally came into view, causing Val to sit up a little straighter, becoming hyper aware of the tears frozen on her cheeks and the blood on her hands. He was tall—easily half a foot taller than her, with dark skin and a fair share of scars on his rugged face, a beanie covering most of his head.

Another younger man appeared at his side, rivaling the previous man’s height, his skin tan and a cowboy hat sitting atop a mess of brown hair. His brown eyes almost glowed in the darkness as he looked around, a six-shooter in his gloved hand. The man wearing the beanie appeared to be dual-wielding shotguns—an odd choice of weaponry these days, but Val said nothing.

“Are you alright,” the first man asked as he got closer, looking down at her in concern, tucking his shotguns away into their holsters. Her violet eyes met his brown ones and she had to suppress another bout of tears once the real weight of the situation dawned on her. She was alone in the middle of a dangerous part of town with two armed men she didn’t know and her sister’s body lying in front of her, her blood soaking into the concrete.

“My sister is dead and I wish I was, too, so you tell me,” Val all, but growled bitterly, immediately regretting her tone when the man raised an eyebrow, surprised at her outburst—though he didn’t flinch away. “S-Sorry. I’m fine. I think.”

“We won’t hurt ya, don’t worry. We were after that thing over there,” the man wearing the cowboy hat affirmed, his vibrato-rich voice easing Val’s nerves a bit. “Jus’ sorry we couldn’t save ya both.”

“We’d been tracking that thing for days. We thought this side of town was empty,” the other man told her, circling around Alina’s body and sticking his head outside, seemingly examining the street before popping back inside. “I’m assuming you two aren’t the only ones here, then?” Val nodded her head in confirmation, gripping Alina’s cold hand harder, realizing she would have to break the news to the others once she got back.

“Can I,” the cowboy asked her as he bent down, reaching towards Alina’s body, but hesitating until he had Val’s approval. She nodded ever so slightly, watching as he felt for her pulse, grimacing when he realized his original assumption was right and she was long dead. All of the color had drained from her skin already and Val moved to slide her bloodstained jacket over Alina’s face, unable to look at it any longer.

“She was dead before she even hit the ground—if that makes you feel any better,” the other man said gently, his brown eyes scanning the scene, an undeniable softness reflected in them that she took some comfort in once his gaze met hers. The man bent down beside the cowboy, reaching for her this time. “Here—let me see your leg. I just wanna make sure nothing is broken.”

Val followed his instructions, grimacing when he straightened her leg and pain shot from her knee down to her foot from where she hit the ground. It definitely wasn’t broken, but she would bruise.

“And your ribs, if you don’t mind. You hit the ground pretty hard.”

He ran his gloved hands along her sides once he had her permission, pressing and making sure nothing was broken before standing back up, offering her a hand. She shook her head, unwilling to leave her sister’s body and he nodded, turning towards his companion. The cowboy stood up as well, brushing himself off and lighting a cigar he pulled out of his pocket.

“Who are you? Why are you here,” Val asked after a long pause, looking back up at them. “You’re military, obviously, but definitely not from around here.”

“What gave that away,” the cowboy asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well, the American accents, neither of you are dressed for sub-zero temperatures,“ Val snorted, analyzing their armor and noticing an unusual brand on their shoulders—a circular design with a skull and dagger in the center—one that she didn’t recognize belonging to any _known_ military organization, anyway. “And no one from around here is dumb enough to fight angry rogue Omnics with a six-shooter while wearing a cowboy hat.”

The older man let out a small laugh at her last comment, his smile growing when he saw the annoyed look on his companion’s face. The cowboy pulled his lit cigar out of his mouth, glaring at her, but eventually a smile overtook his rugged features, too.

“Jesse McCree.”

“Gabriel Reyes.”

 _That_ made her sit up straight. She had been young when the Omnic Crisis ended 10 years ago, but Overwatch was a world power at this point and she had grown up with the stories of how the famous Jack Morrison, Ana Amari, and Gabriel Reyes had saved the world. She had thought for once in their life maybe there was hope, but all of that positivity had since faded as she’d grown older and come to terms with the reality of the world.

“As in the former commander of the Overwatch strike team, Gabriel Reyes,” she asked, giving him the once over again, her eyes falling on the Overwatch crest that resided on his other shoulder that she had missed before.

“That title is over a decade old, but yes, the very same,” Reyes replied with a shrug. “As for why we’re here—we got word of a rogue OR14 and we happened to be in the area, so we decided to take care of it.”

“You just decided on a _whim_ to come fight off rogue Omnics,” Val started, bitterness bleeding into her tone. “Yet we can’t even get our own government to step foot here, much less defend us, so we have to do it ourselves.”

“You put a few bullet holes in that thing,” Jesse said, gesturing over his shoulder at what she assumed was the corpse of the OR14. “Looks like your aim ain’t too bad.”  
  
“Not like it did us any good,” Val replied sadly, her eyes scanning her sister’s shrouded body again, the realization that she was _truly_ alone slowly beginning to set in, causing a devastating tightness to envelop her chest.

“Only so much you can do with weapons that aren’t meant to fight killing machines in the hands of people who don’t quite know how to use them properly,” Reyes reminded her, crossing his arms across his broad chest and tilting his head to the side sympathetically.

“She was all I had left.”

“I’m sorry,” the cowboy murmured softly, feeling it the only appropriate way to express his condolences. She could see the borderline pity reflected in his face, but his eyes were gentle and full of sympathy that she appreciated nonetheless.

“You could escape all of this,” Reyes suggested, eyeing McCree, who raised a curious eyebrow under the brim of his hat. “If there’s nothing left here for you.”  
  
“As if I have anywhere to go or be. Everything and everyone I’ve ever known is here.”

“Then I’d start considerin’ expandin’ your horizons,” the cowboy suggested with a shrug. “Everythin’ here might be what you’ve always known, but there’s an entire world of things out there left to learn.”

There was a long pause—Val looked between them, trying to discern their motives for giving her advice, but they both had maintained their current countenances, their eyes giving away nothing. Eventually Gabriel approached her, a small card held between his left middle and pointer finger, extending it to her. She took it carefully, flipping it over in her palm and noticing the Overwatch logo on one side, but squinting when she saw the logo change ever-so-slightly when she tilted the card at a certain angle, the logo changing to the one on Reyes’ and McCree’s uniforms.

“Consider it. I see a lot of potential in someone like you and we’re always looking for… interesting individuals.”

“I think a _cowboy_ in the year 2060 is about as interesting as you’re gonna get,” Val quipped, smiling slightly when she saw Jesse make a face somewhere between offense and amusement. Reyes let out a small amused huff, raising an eyebrow at her.

With that, the two men looked at each other and nodded before turning back toward the way they had come, giving her small parting nods.

“What’s your name, kid? Don’t think you ever told us,” Reyes said, stopping and looking over his shoulder at her.

“Valeriya Yovenko.”

“Pretty name for a pretty girl,” McCree smiled, tipping his hat at her. “Nice to meet ya—and hopefully we’ll see ya around.”

With that, the two soldiers retreated back into the shadows, their footsteps and the sound of McCree’s spurs fading until all was quiet again. Snow was still falling outside, less intensely than it had been before, but still enough for Val to see it coming down through the crevice in the wall. She was grateful that the wind couldn’t reach her inside, at least—that would only make the loneliness that surrounded her even more apparent.

Sitting there, unwilling to leave what was left of her sister just yet, gave her plenty of time to think. Val looked down at the card in her hand again, tilting it back to examine the mysterious logo hidden in the hologram of the Overwatch logo.

He— _Reyes_ wasn’t wrong. She knew nothing was tying her here anymore—she cared about the people she had come to know over the years in their small group, but she had watched plenty of her friends die and many others leave in pursuit of somewhere more hospitable. Maybe now it was her turn—she had wanted better for herself, but her options had always been limited; now she had her way out.

This city had been her home for all of her life. The first 8 years of her life had been spent as a refugee of war—the next 10 had been spent trying to get by. She had learned to pickpocket, hold her own in a fight, take victories where she could, and protect those that she loved, but as McCree had pointed out, there was still plenty to learn and see. Her world here was familiar, but small.

Their friends came looking for them that morning. She heard them calling their names— _both_ of their names— out on the icy streets, the sounds echoing almost painfully in her ears. She got up, legs sore and wobbly, grimacing at her sister’s body before pushing herself to walk out of the building and onto the road, her boots crunching in the snow. The looks on their faces were enough—she was covered in blood and dust, her eyes blank and lifeless, her head hanging low when she let them pass to see the result of their patrol.

That’s all it was supposed to be—a simple patrol.

Val heard the devastated gasps and murmurs from the other side of the wall as her friends took in the scene, but she couldn’t even bring herself to go back in there and explain—not that she needed to; they could probably tell what happened. Looking up at the blank sky, feeling the sparse flakes land on her face, she took in a shaky breath, unable to calm the tumultuous thoughts racing in her head.

When the group inside reemerged, they had wrapped Alina’s body in what looked like an old tablecloth—one that they had likely brought with them, assuming the worst—carrying her carefully out of the building and down the street. Val couldn’t bring herself to turn around as they did so, deciding to just stare out over the barren, snow covered streets out towards the river in the distance.

They would bury her where they had buried the others—in the field on the edge of town, their graves marked with wooden posts and their names carved into the markers. It’s the best they could do given their circumstances—no fancy coffins, no fancy gravestones—just shallow graves and a midnight vigil. There wasn’t enough time or resources for them to do any better, but it was something.

Eventually, as if she was on autopilot, her feet carried her back down the way she and Alina had come the night before towards their camp in the church. She didn’t quite recall any of the walk, but soon found herself at the doors of the cathedral, pushing them open and stepping out of the snow and into the darkness.

***

She sat on the idea for 3 days. It was all she could think about for 3 days, other than grieving for her sister and thinking of every possible thing she could’ve done to change Alina’s fate. She didn’t even bother celebrating her birthday—she just flipped the card Reyes had given her idly in her fingers, sitting in a chair in the corner of the makeshift medbay, hanging around in case Anastasia needed a break from the babies.

“Go,” Dr. Kolarov smiled from Anastasia’s bedside, gently dabbing at the mother’s forehead as she slept. The twins—one boy and one girl—were lying soundly asleep on her chest wrapped in the blankets Val and Alina had stolen for them.

Dr. Kolarov was a small, gentle woman, maybe 5 feet tall with shoulder length brown hair that was currently pinned in a bun. She had been a field medic for Overwatch for 5 years before deciding she needed some peace and quiet away from the fighting, thus how she had ended up there. The community was grateful—she had appeared a few years after Val and Alina had lost their mother to tuberculosis thanks to a lack of adequate healthcare, but Val was grateful others had the option now, even if they hadn’t when their mother was sick.

“You’re young and this city has cost you everything. Go. See the world,” she repeated with more clarity, sitting back in her chair at looking at Val with encouragement in her green eyes. “Just don’t forget about us.”

Val packed her sparse few things that night, saying goodbye to the doctor and to Anastasia and the babies—discovering that Anastasia had indeed named the girl after her. That brought tears to Val’s eyes as she snuck out the back door, slipping down the empty streets silently and cautiously. There was an Overwatch embassy on the other side of town.

Once she reached the river, she stood on the bridge and looked up, seeing the moon shine through the clouds for the first time in 4 days. She would be back—she didn’t know how soon, but it’s where she had been born, where her mother and sister were buried, and where one day she may be put to rest. But it was also the place where she had watched them die, where she had watched the stability of her life slip out from under her as Omnics began bleeding into the city, and where she and her sister had fought tooth and nail just to survive.

On her 18th birthday, just barely old enough to enlist, she stepped inside the recruitment office at the Overwatch embassy, staring at the logo on the wall and wondering where this path would take her.


	3. Breaking Inside

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Val was used to sitting through boring meetings, but this one brings up old feelings she wasn't ready to deal with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: Shower sex, everyone is on time to a meeting, seeing ghosts

**2076; Watchpoint: Gibraltar**

They woke up early on the floor of Gabe’s old room, curled up against each other with raging headaches. Val’s face was sticky with dried tears and her silver-white hair was all up in Jesse’s face. He sputtered when he opened his mouth to yawn, pushing it out of his face and rolling away from her to stretch, clenching his jaw when a wave of pain traveled from the base of his skull to his forehead. Val sat up, Gabe’s sweatshirt still clutched to her chest, groaning when her muscles cried in protest and her back popped, unused to sleeping on a hard surface.

“We’re gonna feel this for the next few days,” McCree grumbled, pushing himself up and rubbing his face, brow furrowing as his temples pounded. “We’re gettin’ too old to stay up late drinkin’ and sleepin’ on the floor.”

Val grunted in agreement, blinking blearily and waiting for her vision to focus before checking her phone and standing up, hissing again when all of her joints creaked and a wave of nausea swept over her. It was only 8:30 thankfully—she was afraid they had slept through most of the morning when they had things to do. He was right—they really were getting too old for all of their old antics.

“Come on; I’m sure Winston’s at least curious as to why we didn’t ask for the code to our room,” Val murmured, looking around the room again.

It was in the same state as it had been when they fell asleep—the box sat open against the wall and Val moved to close it, looking down at Gabe’s sweatshirt in her hands and debating as to whether she should put it back. She decided against it and decided to slip it on instead, knowing it was a bad idea, but she couldn’t bring herself to part with it yet. The smell of gunpowder and sandalwood hit her again and threatened to cause tears to spring up in her eyes, but she pushed them back, focusing on closing the cardboard flaps and sliding the box back in the closet, closing the doors before turning back to Jesse, who stood by the door with his head resting wearily against the wall.

She walked up to him, taking his hat out of his hand and putting it on his head before standing on her toes and kissing him gently. He returned it languidly, wrapping his arms around her shoulders and pulling her head against his chest after, pressing a kiss into her hair.

“You okay?”

She nodded, somewhat unsure, but definitely better than last night.

“Are you?”

The cowboy hummed in hesitant confirmation, taking a deep breath and breathing in the comforting smell of lavender and roses in her hair. Val nuzzled his neck, sliding a hand under his serape and running it across his chestplate. They stood like that for another minute or so, their moment interrupted when Val’s phone vibrated. She pulled it out of her back pocket again, scanning the notifications, the top message a message from Winston asking where they were and if they had gotten to their room yet.

“Told you,” Val snorted, flashing the screen at Jesse in amusement.

“What do we tell ‘em if they ask where we were,” he asked, pulling the door open to let her pass before slipping out behind her.

“Slept on the roof? We did that a couple times—I don’t think they'd question it.” Jesse shrugged, content with her idea, following closely behind her as they made their way back towards the Overwatch wing of the watchpoint. She got the details for their room from Winston and they both slipped stealthily down the halls, avoiding people where they could before sliding inside the room designated for them, the door sliding shut behind them.

The room was arranged similar to how the Blackwatch dorms used to be—a desk sat in the far corner opposite the door on the back wall with a holovid on it, Athena’s logo floating on the screen. A queen size bed sat in the opposite corner on the back wall, fresh sheets and their bags sitting at the end of the plush mattress. Val would have to thank Lena, as she was most likely the one who brought their bags up and who thoroughly cleaned the room—not a speck of dust was to be found. A bathroom and closet sat on the wall opposite the bed.

“Good morning Captain Yovenko, Agent McCree,” Athena echoed once they stepped further into the room, the holovid lighting up and showing the weather forecast as well as the time.  

“That’s a title I haven’t used in a while,” Val mused, turning on the lamp sitting on the bedside table before slipping her mid-thigh heeled boots off. “Good morning Athena.”

“Winston wanted me to inform you there will be a meeting in 45 minutes in conference room 1A. He would like you both to attend.”

“Any idea why he’s holdin’ a meeting? Not everyone is here yet,” Jesse asked, slipping off his boots and his serape before pulling Peacekeeper out of it’s holster and setting it on the bedside table. Val did the same with her daggers, placing them beside the cowboy’s famous six-shooter.

“He wants to address some security concerns as well as discuss the looming Talon threat as soon as possible.” With that, Athena went silent, leaving them to exchange glances with each other. Val shrugged, running a hand through her hair tiredly.

“I need to shower. Wanna join me?” She knew better than to ask—the answer was always the same. The cowboy smiled, bending down to grab her thighs and lift her up. She instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips, crossing her ankles behind his lower back and wrapping her arms around his neck, pulling him closer.

“Always.”

While they hardly had time for it, they didn’t care. In their younger days, they had made a terrible habit of being late because they were distracted by each other. It stopped once Val became Blackwatch’s second in command and Gabe joined in on their escapades, but only because they had places they _needed_ to be—meetings with Jack and foreign representatives weren’t optional, despite how much Val used to grumble discontentedly about them and how many times Jesse tried to convince them to stay in bed with him. Gabe would flash him a mischievous smile and Val would make a promise for their quick return, though they rarely kept it. If there was one thing Val knew politicians loved, it was talking, especially about themselves, but Gabe always pointed out everything useful they had learned—even if the information was delivered in a long winded speech.

Jesse carried her to the bathroom, peppering kisses to her neck and jaw, sucking on her earlobe and causing a shiver to run down her spine, goosebumps rising on her pale skin. She pulled his hat off, placing it on the bathroom counter and carding her fingers through his soft brown hair, placing teasing kisses on the sides of his mouth before dragging his head down to properly meet her lips again.

Their tongues tangled languidly as McCree set her on the cold bathroom counter, moving to turn on the shower before pulling Gabe’s sweatshirt off first and setting it to the side, then stripping her of the rest of her clothes, throwing those to the tiled floor. Val slid her fingers over his chest, unbuttoning his shirt and pushing it off of his shoulders before running her nails down his toned chest, his tan skin warm under her fingertips. Even after all of these years, she still found him attractive—maybe even more so now than she used to.

His hands went to her bare breasts, massaging them gently before rolling her nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, causing her to moan and push her chest into his touch. He smirked, his mouth finding its way back to hers, kissing her and swallowing her moans as he toyed with her. He pulled his mechanical hand away from her tits, sliding it down her stomach, hovering around her core before sliding his fingers through her soaking wet folds, toying with her slit, the cold metal a sharp contrast with her flushed skin.

Val’s hands continued their downward descent shakily as she tried to focus, running them across the cowboy’s toned abdomen before reaching the waistband of his pants. She moved to unbutton them, pushing them down just enough for her to slip her hand inside and run her hand along his impressive clothed length, feeling his erection through his underwear.

It was the cowboy’s turn to moan as he rolled his hips into her touch, precum leaking from the tip of his cock and seeping through the fabric. She smirked, grinding her clit against his palm as she freed his cock and wrapped her hand firmly around it, giving it a few small strokes and using her thumb to spread the precum around his tip. His chest heaved as he resisted the urge to put the bathroom counter to better use than just sitting, but he settled for sliding two fingers inside of her, making a ‘come here’ motion, hitting the perfect spot inside of her he knew all too well.

Val moaned and keened in approval, her hand faltering in its strokes as he slid another finger in, stretching her out in the most delicious way, scissoring his fingers inside of her. She rested her forehead against his as he fingered her, adjusting her grip on his cock and stroking faster, causing Jesse to take in a sharp breath, moving to whisper sweet nothings in her ear and to press kisses to the side of her face. By the time they were both close, moaning each other’s names and begging for release, steam had gathered on the mirror and in the air, reminding them of why they were in the bathroom in the first place.

They withdrew from each other reluctantly and Val hopped down, her legs shaky as she made her way towards the shower. McCree stripped the rest of the way down, watching her walk and step inside, the hot water cascading over her small figure. She ran her hands through her loose hair, letting the water soak into it as she pushed it out of her face. The warmth did wonders for her aching muscles and joints—the result of sleeping on a hard floor for 6 hours.

Jesse stepped in behind her, running his hands up her sides to cup her breasts, pulling her back against his chest, swooping down to capture her lips when she looked backwards up towards him. Val could feel his erection pressed against her lower back and she pushed her ass back into it, snickering when the cowboy let out a groan, grabbing her hips and spinning her around before hooking his hands under her thighs, pulling her off the ground.

Val instinctively wrapped her legs around his hips again as he pinned her to the cold tile wall of the shower, shivering excitedly when she felt the tip of his cock brush against her wet slit.

“Ready,” he asked tenderly. He knew she was, but he always asked just to make sure. He had almost a foot and at least 60 pounds on her; he wasn’t a small man in more ways than one—he was always afraid he’d break her, despite her protests otherwise.

“ _Please_.” Val hadn’t intended for that to come out as a whine, but her pussy was throbbing with need and her core was burning. “Jess—please.”

“I’ve got ya honey bee, don’t worry.” He slowly lowered her onto himself, digging his face into the crook of her neck as her tightness enveloped him, a small gasp escaping his lips. Val let out a relieved moan, wrapping her arms around his neck tighter, her nails digging into his shoulder blades as he stretched her in the best way possible. He gave her a moment to adjust once he bottomed out, feeling her walls squeeze around him.

“Fuck. Move.” She was rarely commanding, but they didn’t have much time and she was getting impatient. He chuckled—grateful she still wanted him after all of this time—before thrusting upward, tearing a pleased groan from Val’s throat.

The room was filled with the sound of skin meeting skin. Water slid off of them as the cowboy kept her pinned to the wall, slamming into her and hitting that spot he knew all too well. Val pulled lightly on his hair, coaxing him into a desperate, searing kiss. She could feel the edges of her vision blurring as moans fell out of her mouth left and right, her core tightening until it was ready to unravel. Jesse let go of one of her thighs, moving his mechanical hand to her clit, rubbing small circles around the sensitive bud and causing Val to squirm. She was so so close.

“F-fuck Jess—gonna cum,” was all she managed to get out before her orgasm came crashing down on her, ripping through her body and causing her to see stars. She pulled him as close as possible as she rode it out, his name falling from her lips over and over again like some kind of prayer.

“Fuck, s-so good baby girl,” Jesse groaned into her neck, his breathing ragged and his thrusts becoming sloppy. She felt him spill inside her seconds later after slamming into her one last time, her eyes fluttering closed in satisfaction at the feeling.

They both stood there for a minute, relishing in the afterglow of their orgasms, their chests heaving. Jesse moved first, placing gentle kisses up her neck before capturing her lips again in a slow, loving kiss. Val returned the gesture languidly, running a gentle hand through his damp hair and down his muscular chest.

“We’ve gotta hurry,” she murmured softly, resting her forehead against his.

“Mmm in a minute,” Jesse replied, wanting to just take her in for a moment. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’re late to a meetin’ because we decided to have sex instead.”

She snorted in amusement, leaning back against the tile, following McCree’s gaze as he looked her up and down appreciatively. She always had a post-sex glow that he found intoxicating. Finally, he slowly pulled out of her, setting her gently down on the floor.

“I love you.” She looked up at him, smiling. He could see it in her eyes.

“I love you, too darlin’.”

The rest of their shower was rushed, though they each found plenty of opportunities to throw bubbles at or wash the other person. Jesse would never tell her, but he loved washing her long hair—it was soft and he loved the quiet pleased noises she made when he massaged her head. Once they were finished they brushed their teeth and rushed into the bedroom, quickly drying off when they realized they only had 10 minutes until the meeting started.

Val scrambled around for clean clothes, playfully glaring at Jesse when he swiped her underwear before she could slip it on, shaking his head. Huffing in mock displeasure, she pulled a pair of skinny jeans and a gray sweater on before throwing on her wedge ankle boots. Slipping her holster on her thigh, she grabbed her daggers, too, tucking them safely into the holster. She knew they could make it to the conference room in about 3 minutes—she had timed it back in the day for this very reason—so she spent the next two throwing on eyeliner and mascara, trying to make herself look halfway presentable.

Dashing out the door, Val braided her damp hair as they hurried down the hall, the sound of her wedge heels thumping on the hard floor echoing behind her. Jesse rolled the sleeves of his button up as they walked, running a hand through his damp hair before putting his hat in its rightful place atop his head again. She would never tell him this, but his strong forearms made her weak—though she was sure he got the hint whenever he caught her staring.

They made it to the meeting room just in time, stepping inside and around the long glass conference table to their seats. Sunlight shone in from the window that made up the wall on one side of the room, making the inside of the room glow.

Winston sat at the head of the table with Ana to his left and Jack to his right. Next to Ana was Reinhardt, who appeared to be quietly doting on the Egyptian in German; Angela had settled in her chair beside Jack, chewing on the pen she had in her hand as she looked down at the holopad in her lap. Brigitte had taken up residence next to Angela with her father across from her beside Reinhardt. Val slid into the chair next to Brigitte, quietly greeting her, and Jesse sat across from the assassin, silently greeting everyone at the table with a tip of his hat. Looks like they were only missing Lena—who came dashing in the door a minute later, everyone looking up from their conversations as she entered and practically jumped into her seat beside Val.

“Good—everyone’s here and on time, too,” Winston said from the head of the long conference table. “That’s a first.”

“Cherish it—it’ll never happen again,” Val quipped, crossing her arms across her chest as she sat back in her chair. Ana let out a quiet, knowing laugh and Jack faintly huffed in amusement, but otherwise his expression remained unmoved.

“Regardless, let’s get started,” Winston continued, eyeing Val blithely, to which she responded with a shrug. “Not that I need to remind anyone, as the news does a good job of doing that, but another Omnic Crisis has been tearing through most of eastern Europe, which is the main reason I decided to issue the Recall. At Athena’s request, she’s asked me to remind you that what we’re doing here is illegal under the Petras Act, but seeing as you all decided to show up, I’ll take that as a sign none of you particularly care or are choosing to ignore it.”

Val and McCree had decided to effectively ignore it because they _couldn’t_ ignore the fact that the Omnic Crisis was back at their doorstep. They had fled Val’s apartment in Kiev out of fear for their own safety—most of Russia had fallen already and the omnic forces were putting pressure on the Ukrainian border, thus they had moved back to Jesse’s safehouse in New Mexico.

“With that in mind, I ask that everyone maintain a decent amount of discretion and limit departures unless absolutely necessary. We can send a small group of people out to the market for groceries and other necessary items, but otherwise we need to limit any movement in and around the watchpoint to make sure no one gets suspicious.”

“Do we have any contacts outside of the watchpoint for medical supplies,” Angela asked, looking up from her holopad, which appeared to have all of their charts displayed on the screen. “What was left in the medbay is limited. I can’t promise I can save anyone if they get critically injured.”

“I’ve been looking into it since you confirmed you were coming, dear,” Ana assured her with a smile from across the table. “We should be getting supplies in a few days.”

“Including everything we need to repair everyone’s armor,” Brigitte asked, somehow managing to look more concerned than Angela.

“Don’t worry my dear lehrling (apprentice). Your father and I took care of that as well,” Reinhardt replied enthusiastically, quietly beaming when Brigitte visibly relaxed.

“Second order of business,” Winston resumed. “As some of you already know, the mercenary known as ‘Reaper’ made an appearance here a few days ago—I’ve updated security protocols and checked all of the cameras and sensors to make sure they’re functional. He appeared with a legion of Talon soldiers, so we can only assume he’s allied himself with them for the time  being. That being said, Talon must know our base of operation—which is dangerous enough as it is.”

“We’ve been tracking him for a long time—if he didn’t get what he originally came for, he’ll be back sooner or later,” Jack commented, his voice rough and his gaze burning. “I wouldn’t get too comfortable.”

“They also have to know that we’re all here. I’m sure they’re keeping watch on us as we speak,” Val noted, sitting forward a bit, eyeing Jack distrustingly. “Even without the the element of surprise, if they try again, we’ll be prepared.”

“Talon is our biggest threat, right now. We need to gather as much information on them as we can,” Winston said, glancing around the room at the attendees. “And as I said—keeping movement limited is key. They might know we’re here, but as long as they can’t get a good read on how many of us are here hopefully that will stop them from making any coordinated attacks.”

“We could always establish a watch schedule—put people around the perimeter and have patrols running around the clock,” Jack suggested, leaving the idea open to the table. Val wasn’t sure if it was his tone—a tone she recognized from the old days after sitting through meetings with him—but it irked her enough to speak up.

“Having people keep watch would be fine, but patrolling would be too much movement and probably draw attention. Any enemy worth fighting can easily figure out guard rotation patterns, anyway,” Val pointed out, her cutting gaze meeting Jack’s neutral one. “This isn’t a military camp—we have to have a degree of stealth.”

Bitterness had begun to bleed into her tone, but she couldn’t help it. It had been building since she had seen him for the first time when they arrived. Jesse shot her a look from across the table, silently telling her to back off a bit, but she averted her gaze.

“What? Like Blackwatch,” Jack bit back, his brow furrowing.  “Last time I checked, my _stealthy_ black ops division was plastered across the news because their commander decided to shoot a man in the face. Of course, none of you knew a thing about it. The two words used to describe Blackwatch shouldn’t have been black ops—they should’ve been plausible deniability.”

“Blackwatch isn’t and never was _yours_ ,” Val retorted scathingly, meeting Jack’s derisive gaze steadily. “And you’re not our commander anymore. Stop acting like it.”

The tension between the former Overwatch commander and the former Blackwatch second-in-command could have been cut with a knife. They glared at each other while everyone else at the table looked back and forth between them, their attention only being drawn away from the exchange when Winston cleared his throat. Even then, Val and Jack never stopped looking at each other, the malevolence and borderline hatred heavily apparent in both of their eyes.

“Third and final order of business,” Winston started, trying to wrangling in the slowly souring atmosphere of the room. “Fareeha should be here within the next few days”—Val could only assume that was meant more as a warning for Ana—”And Lena managed to secure Lúcio Correia dos Santos, known publicly as the famous musician Lucio, as well as Hana “D.va” Song, the famous MEKA pilot and pro-gamer, as allies. They’ll be arriving sometime within the next few days as well. Make them feel welcome.”

Val had heard both names in passing. The Korean MEKA program had been successful for the first few years until the omnic forces became overwhelming on the Korean peninsula—after which the Korean government turned to recruiting pilots for the MEKAs. While Val hadn’t followed her gaming career too closely, she remembered Genji mentioning her a few times, seemingly impressed with her gaming and military prowess.

Lucio, on the other hand, she was more familiar with. Val had personally dealt with Vishkar at the request of one of her clients, who had hired her to assassinate a higher-level manager in the corporation. She had heard of and seen his resistance efforts on the streets of Rio de Janeiro while she was there. She wished she could’ve stayed to help—Vishkar was a growing threat comparable to Talon, but she had to return to Jesse before he started to worry. She was also a big fan of his music—not that she’d admit that to anyone currently in the room.

“That’s all. Everyone is dismissed.”

Everyone moved to leave, slowly trickling out and making small conversation with each other as they exited, but neither Val nor Jesse moved. There was a long pause after everyone had stepped out and the two sat there in silence. Val fiddled with the edge of her sweater, unwilling to meet the cowboy’s gaze.

He broke the silence first.

“What the hell was that?”

“I don’t… know,” Val replied hesitantly, finally looking up at him, surprised to find his brown eyes reflected something akin to concern rather than the anger she expected. “I know you said I should try to forgive him—that we have too much at stake, but every time I look at him all I see is everything we went through in those last few days.”

“They’ve come and gone and we made it through, pumpkin,” McCree reminded her gently, standing up and making his way towards the door. “I’m not sayin’ it was easy, but it is what it is. We’re all back here together again and that’s almost more than anyone could've asked for.”

With that, he walked out, leaving her to stare out the window that made up the opposite wall of the room. She knew he was right—he always was, but these were old wounds she had tried to unsuccessfully patch for years and there was no reason why she would succeed now. Rocking subtly back and forth in her chair, she attempted to sort her thoughts, finally settling a bit later on going to at least talk to Jack. Pushing herself out of her chair, she headed towards the door, stepping into the hallway once it slid open.

While she hadn’t seen what direction he went when he left, she had a good idea of where he was. Turning left, she headed down the hall and into the depths of the Overwatch wing of the watchpoint, following the arrows until she reached a familiar door—one she had walked through many times while delivering errands or notes from Reyes.

Val slid inside Jack’s old office, looking around to find it mostly empty aside from a familiar deck and holovid at the center of the room. Otherwise, the walls were blank and the desk empty. As she predicted, Jack was standing near the back, looking out the window that made up the entire back wall.

She approached less stealthily than she normally would, hoping her footsteps were loud enough to alert him to her presence. He glanced over his shoulder at her once she got closer, watching quietly as she stood beside him, looking out the window at the sea in the distance as she tried to sort out what she wanted to say. There was a small pause.

“I don’t hate you, you know. Not entirely, anyway,” Val started, her chest heavy as she struggled to keep her tone from faltering. He looked up at her, raising a surprised eyebrow. “Damnit Jack.”

“I told Gabe those would be his famous last words,” he replied lightheartedly, a small smile gracing his rugged face.

“Were they?” She hated to ask—it hurt her to ask. A pang of regret shot through her chest when she saw a pained expression cross Morrison’s scarred face—even if it was just for a second.

“I don’t know. It all happened so fast,” he sighed, his gaze wavering slightly. “In those last few moments, every regret I ever had crossed my mind. But for him? I think he was thinking of you.”

She felt her heart skip a beat, but the heaviness in her chest only grew. She clutched a hand to the space over her heart, her gaze downcast towards the walkway outside the window below. Any other time, she would’ve taken comfort in knowing that he thought of her in his last moments, but right now that hurt more than she could explain. She wished she had been there, but it was a moment lost to time.

“I did what I thought was best,” Jack started, crossing his arms across his chest, his jacket hugging his broad shoulders tightly; the 76 on the back seemed to glow in the morning sunlight. “I tried to defend and protect what was left of Overwatch and Blackwatch the best that I could in front of the UN.”

“That’s not why I’m angry,” Val replied, drawing her gaze away from the outside world and turning to lean on the window instead, examining the sparse interior of the room. She had been in that office enough times to perfectly picture how it used to be decorated.

“Then why? I know we had our disagreements back in the days, but it’s been 5 years.” She looked up at him, her eyes narrowing as she felt tears gathering at the edges of her vision.

“Every time I look at you, all I think of is everything you left me with. I hate you for reasons that aren’t necessarily your fault, yet I can’t help, but be bitter about it. I got stuck with your paperwork and Gabe’s paperwork and the media and the UN and the panic. I hate you because I didn’t have time to grieve. I thought things couldn’t get any worse after Jesse left, but then Gabe _died_  and I got stuck cleaning up _your_ mess. I hate you because you got to run away and forget, but I was constantly reminded I had just lost the other love of my life and everything that connected me to him was being torn away. All that ever comes to mind is me sitting in Gabe’s office crying over paperwork I didn’t wanna do and wondering what I did to deserve all of that. Except this time, I was alone. I couldn’t ask any questions. All of the decisions were mine and mine alone. Maybe I wasn’t ready to take responsibility for it all, but you can’t leave that to one person.”

Tears were running freely down her face now as they stood in silence. Jack turned to her, his blue eyes soft.

“I’m sorry.”

That wasn’t what she had expected—she expected him to defend himself, tell her it’s what she had signed up for all those years ago when she had accepted her position as second-in-command of Blackwatch, but those two words surpassed her expectations. She looked at him, brows furrowed in confusion, but she relaxed once she finally accepted she had heard him correctly. She could see the remorse in his eyes and that was enough.

They looked at each other for a moment before Val nodded in acceptance, taking a deep shuddering breath before pushing off of the window and heading towards the door.

“I can make the watch schedule—if you’d like to look over it once I’m done,” she said, stopping in the doorway and looking at him over her shoulder. She meant it as a peace offering—he turned towards her slightly, nodding in confirmation and acceptance. She may not have agreed with some of his decisions as Strike Commander, but he was a natural born leader through and through.

Pulling herself together, Val headed back down the hall, intent on getting breakfast before heading to the training facilities, as she was sure that’s where everyone else was. Many of them hadn’t seen real combat in years and running a few sims couldn’t hurt—though Val had been hired for a host of assassinations and Jesse had gotten himself into a fair share of gun fights in the last few years in their attempts to put down people they believed deserved it. Regardless, everyone hadn’t fought together in years and they were sure they were all rusty. Whether it would go smoothly; however, was largely debatable and Val was sure she would find the answer within the next few days.

She wasn’t entirely sure how Reinhardt or Torbjorn or even Ana were going to hold up considering their age, but she would have to see for herself how they did first before judging. All three had been known for their tenacity and she was sure that hadn’t change. Jack, despite his graying hair, seemed just as healthy as he used to be—most likely due to whatever they pumped into him during the SEP era. Arguably, she and Jesse were no longer in their prime, either, but they were hardly unfit for duty. She was sure; however, that the new recruits would hopefully breathe some life back into their mission.

As Val walked, her footsteps echoing eerily behind her, movement down a hallway caught her eye, snapping her out of her thoughts. The assassin turned hesitantly, reaching for her daggers tucked safely into the holster on her thigh, squinting into the semi-darkness down the corridor. Nothing seemed to be moving, but she turned her head a bit regardless, listening for any sign of movement, flipping her daggers open and turning them on, electricity traveling up the blade and surrounding it, the purple glow they gave off highlighting the area in front of her.

Still nothing.

Waiting a few more seconds to confirm she had been imagining things, she resheathed her daggers and turned to continue on her way, but she hesitated again when the familiar feeling of being watched washed over her as she moved away. Stopping again, she looked back down the hallway, her breath catching in her throat when she saw a painfully familiar face.

Even if it was just for a second, she could see Gabriel’s face in the darkness, looking at her solemnly as she stood there. His face was contorted in pain and his brown eyes were dull, seemingly begging her to put him out of his misery. His body seemed to be shrouded in and connected to the darkness, as if his blood had turned into shadows and he was bleeding out around himself. She wanted to reach for him, help him if she could, but she felt paralyzed by his gaze. She stared for a few more seconds, her breathing shallow and her posture stiff like she was being stalked by a predator and any wrong movement would bring about the end of her life, but once she blinked again he was gone and the feeling of being watched faded.

Blinking rapidly a few more times to see if he would reappear, she finally let herself breathe properly, relaxing a little, though her brows remained furrowed in confusion. That couldn’t have been real—she had to have been imagining things; she was still hungover and sleeping on the floor hadn’t done her any favors. Now, her mind was playing tricks on her— _cruel_ tricks. She brushed it off finally, forcing herself to move.

Heading towards the kitchen, she couldn’t help, but glance over her shoulder again. An empty hallway extended out behind her and she felt her heart sink a little. Of course he wouldn’t be there. He was dead.

After all of this time, she still hoped he would come back to them—even if it was impossible.


	4. Kamikaze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Gabriel Reyes thought he saw potential in Val. She has every intention of proving him right.

**Chapter 4: Kamikaze**

**2061; Watchpoint: Gibraltar**

The next time Valeriya saw Jesse McCree was four and a half months later in the Blackwatch mess hall. 

She had been sitting at a corner table munching on an apple after morning drills, scrolling idly through the daily world news articles on her new phone, her silver-white hair in a messy bun. A light tap on her shoulder caused her to turn, looking up into soft brown eyes she’d only seen once before, but would likely remember for the rest of her life. 

“I’ll be damned,” the cowboy exclaimed heartily, a smile lighting up his rugged features. “It is you.” 

“The one and only—as far as I know, anyway,” she huffed lightheartedly, putting her phone down and taking another bite of her apple. “Didn’t think I’d show?”

“Either that or you’d turn tail and run after the first day of basic trainin’,” he replied almost sheepishly, shrugging when she raised an almost insulted eyebrow. 

She would be lying if she said she hadn’t  _ thought _ about running. While she was in good shape beforehand, basic training had kicked her ass. All of the running, lifting, and the accompanying soreness had her questioning her life choices. Blackwatch required lessons on espionage and stealth as well, which she excelled at after some time, but up until that point, she realized she had no grace or finesse, nor was she as quiet as she thought. On top of that, she was hardly a morning person, but she managed to convince herself over the blaring of her alarm at 4 a.m. that it was all worth it—she had a warm place to sleep, clean clothes and water, and decent food whenever she was hungry. That’s more than she had had for most of her life. 

If Val had two thing going for her during those few miserable months—it was her knowledge of weaponry and her skills in hand to hand combat. While the rifles they had used back in Kiev were older models, they weren’t very different from the basic assault rifles newer recruits were assigned. Once she noticed the differences, she easily adapted to them and felt almost at home behind the trigger, her aim slowly improving until she was taking heads off of the training dummies in the simulator. She also discovered her aim was efficient with a sniper rifle, much to the surprise of herself and her superiors. 

As for hand to hand combat, her reflexes were far quicker than she gave herself credit for previously and her small stature allowed for her to be agile and quick, taking down much larger and subsequently slower opponents. The few things she’s learned from street fighting had come in handy—though playing dirty was generally looked down upon, which was a hindrance at best considering it’s what she was good at. 

She only wished it had all been this good before Alina’s death; she knew she spent too much time wondering what she could have done to change her sister’s fate, but now it was time to make her own. 

“Anyway, I’m goin’ to get food. You’re welcome to come sit with us. Meet some of the senior agents,” Jesse offered, nodding his head over his shoulder. “But, I can’t promise they won’t poke fun at you for bein’ a newbie.”

“They can do their worst,” she snorted, hardly intimidated, though once she looked at where he was gesturing and analyzed the people at the table, she hesitated a bit. 

There were two guys and one girl—the girl sitting across the table from the two men. The one that caught her eye first was the black-haired man sitting on the right, whose masked face and chest appeared to be littered with scars. From what she could tell at a distance, he appeared to be mostly machine—a sight she became accustomed to during her time there so far, as many of the recruits had prosthetics as a result of their job. She was sure there was a story behind each and every one of them, but this man in particular caught her attention more than the others. 

“Genji doesn’t bite—he’s more of the silent broodin’ type,” McCree commented, following her gaze. “Killer with a sword and faster than a bullet, though, so don’t get on his bad side. He’s our resident ninja. Jensen and Cruz might dig into you, but they don’t mean it—they jus’ like gettin’ on people’s nerves.” 

She glanced up at him before shrugging, getting up and tossing her apple core into the trash before making her way towards them. Jesse was a step ahead of her, his gait confident and his posture relaxed. She wasn’t sure how long he’d been here, but considering he acted like he belonged AND she had first met him on a mission with the  _ commander  _ of Blackwatch, that meant he was more than familiar with what he was doing. 

All three of them looked up as they approached and Val could immediately tell they were trying to figure her out. She had to get used to the scrutinizing gazes of her fellow colleagues—they were a stealth force after all; they’d be doing a shitty job if they weren’t  _ always  _ analyzing everyone and everything. Regardless, Val had learned to do the same and she scanned them casually. 

Genji seemed to take little interest in her and moved back to staring at the table, his brown eyes dark and his brow furrowed. The other two were watching her, dressed in the usual Blackwatch uniform, though the man had a maroon bandana wrapped around his neck and the woman was wearing protective bracers on her forearms. 

“Cruz, Jensen, Genji—remember the girl I told ya about that we saved from that rogue Omnic in Kiev a few months ago,” McCree started, gesturing to each of them as he said their names. “This is her.”

“Valeriya Yovenko, was it,” Cruz said, looking up from her oatmeal with keen hazel eyes, a strand of her brown hair falling into her face. “You’re the one all of the drill sergeants have been going on about.”

“And the one invited here by Commander Reyes himself,” Jensen remarked, leaning back in his chair a bit and running a tired hand through his short auburn hair. “Smart of you to accept that invitation, by the way. If he liked you within fifteen minutes of meeting you, that means something.” 

“I’ve only seen him in passing so far. I’d be shocked if he remembered me—I’m sure he’s a busy man,” Val replied with a shrug, shifting from one foot to the other. 

“It’d be hard to forget a pretty lady like yourself,” McCree quipped as he walked away, his spurs jingling with each step.

“You already hit me with that one—try again,” Val playfully called after him over her shoulder, reminding him of their first meeting, smiling when McCree turned back towards her, walking backwards and shrugging. 

“I still mean it,” he called back before turning back around, committing to his original objective. Val rolled her eyes, but had to suppress the blush that threatened to rise on her cheeks.

“Don’t think on that too much—Jesse’s like that with everyone,” Cruz muttered, seemingly tired of the cowboy’s antics as she watched him walk away, her lightly freckled nose scrunching in annoyance. “And Reyes’ rarely picks up strays. He’ll remember you.”

“You seem to be putting his invitation to good use. You’ve impressed a lot of people,” Jensen affirmed, taking a sip from his orange juice, his blue eyes trained on her. “Whatever he saw in you—it’s clearly there.” 

They talked for the better part of an hour. Eventually McCree returned with his breakfast, offering Val the granola bar he grabbed, which she took gratefully. While Cruz and Jensen  _ did  _ manage to get their digs about her being a newbie in, they were otherwise respectable—though Val noticed Jensen thought  _ very  _ highly of himself, whereas McCree was surprisingly humble. Genji remained silent for most of the conversation, though Val caught him looking her up and down more than once, seemingly trying to figure her out. She smiled at him, trying to make peace, but he just looked away, focusing on everything, but her. 

“Come spar with us,” Cruz offered, getting up and pushing her chair in. “I’d like to see those hand-to-hand combat skills of yours.” 

“Oh don’t beat up on ‘er just yet Cruz,” McCree interjected, tossing his crumpled up napkin at the trash can, his brow furrowing when he missed. “She just got here. Let her settle in a bit before we show her what we’re made of.” 

“Why? You think I’ll lose,” Val huffed playfully, pulling herself out of her chair and pushing it in as well, watching in amusement as the cowboy took his walk of shame to correct his missed shot. “Don’t worry—I live to prove people wrong.” 

Jesse eyed her as they all moved away from the table, surprise and interest reflected in his brown eyes, but he nodded in acceptance. Even Genji seemed intrigued, following closely behind the group as they headed out of the mess hall and towards the gym. It was decently crowded once they entered, but one of the sparring mats was open. 

Val slipped her shoes off, watching as Cruz did the same on the other side of the mat, shrugging off her jacket as well, but leaving her bracers and chestplate on. Jensen and Genji made themselves comfortable closeby, watching the two girls intently. Jesse took up residence behind her, watching thoughtfully as she pulled her gloves out of her pockets. 

“Cruz is one of our best in terms of close quarters combat. She’s known for bein’ a little rough when sparrin’—watch out for her right hook. I don’t think you want a broken jaw,” McCree hummed quietly in her ear as she pulled her fingerless gloves onto her hands, adjusting them until they were tight enough for her liking. “And she tends to put a lot of weight on her left leg when she does it. Sweep it out from under her and she’ll go down like a ton of bricks—jus’ make sure she doesn’t take you to the floor with her.” Val nodded gratefully, suppressing a shiver, the sound of his deep voice echoing in her head afterwards, comforting her a bit. 

She stepped onto the mat, rolling her shoulders before taking up a preparative fighting stance, eyeing Cruz as the brunette moved closer to her before settling into the same stance, looking Val up and down. Val could finally get a good look at her; she was easily about 4 inches taller than Val, her muscular tattooed arms lean and her tan midsection solid. She definitely weighed more—meaning she’d be harder to take down, but Val had learned plenty of ways to use that to her advantage. 

Cruz threw the first punch, which Val deftly dodged, ducking to the side and throwing a jab that connected with her left shoulder. That hardly deterred the brunette and she swiftly brought her knee up, intent on kneeing Val in the side as she leaned away from the first punch, but Val brought her hand down, blocking her knee and turning, shoving her shoulder into Cruz’s chest, throwing the brunette off balance. Val followed with a swift kick to her chest, throwing her back and onto her ass. She hit the mat with a thud and looked up in surprise, raising a somewhat offended eyebrow. 

“I was going easy on you—looks like I won’t need to,” she commented, taking Val’s hand when she offered it, letting the silver-haired agent pull her up. Val glanced over her shoulder, smiling when McCree nodded towards her approvingly, trying to hide the smile on his face. She also noticed a lot of the surrounding agents had begun to watch, taking interest in who knocked their senior hand-to-hand combat aficionado to the floor. 

The next match went to Cruz, the one after to Val, and the next to Cruz, making them tied. Cruz was faster than Val expected and her punches were calculated and precise, but she was hardly light on her feet, relying to heavily on keeping her feet planted completely on the ground for stabilization as she was moving, whereas Val remained mostly on her toes, her reflexes just fast enough for her to dodge most of the oncoming flurries of punches usually aimed at her abdomen. Val was sure her ribs would be bruised tomorrow, but the satisfaction of hearing Cruz grunt as she hit the floor again was enough to convince Val it was worth it. 

They both took a moment to catch their breath. Val ran a gloved hand through her hair, adjusting her bun, vaguely aware of all of the eyes on the two of them. Cruz nodded at her when she was ready again and they squared off for the last time, watching every movement their opponent made as neither of them planned on going down easily. 

Val decided to make the first move, jumping forward and throwing a swift kick, using her arms to protect her face when Cruz side stepped and aimed for a punch to the face. She knocked Val back a bit, but the silver-haired agent managed to get her feet under her just in time. Cruz dove forward again a second later, throwing the right hook McCree warned her about, but Val managed to duck under it, shivering when she felt Cruz’s fist rush past the top of her head—he was right, that could have easily knocked her out. That’s when Val noticed she really did put all of her weight on her left leg—as she moved mostly the right side of her body for the punch—and the younger agent swept her leg under Cruz’s body, pushing off the ground and jumping as Cruz stumbled. Val wrapping her legs around the older agent’s neck, using her momentum swing under Cruz and flip her onto her back. They hit the mat with a definitive thud, with Val’s legs locked around Cruz’s dazed head, both of them breathing hard. 

“I’m out,” Cruz gasped, tapping out on Val’s thigh breathlessly, her hazel eyes wide with surprise. Val released her, trying unsuccessfully to hide the smile that crept onto her face. Jesse was looking at her in silent admiration, tipping his hat in her direction as a small congratulations—he knew she was meant to be here. Jensen and Genji were staring in shock, surprised to see their teammate on the ground. 

“Cruz—I told you to stop relying so heavily on your non-dominant leg. It’s called that for a reason,” a familiar voice called from nearby. They both sat up, looking in astonishment as Gabriel Reyes himself approached, looking at both of them almost proudly, eyeing Val specifically with a small smile. “Yovenko—nicely done. That was a clean takedown.”

“Thank you, sir,” Val replied earnestly as she and Cruz rushed to their feet to stand before their commander, trying to hide their labored breathing.  

“You owe me ten bucks. You said she wouldn’t show,” Gabe said matter-of-factly, looking towards McCree as the cowboy moved towards him, wallet already in hand and a ten dollar bill between his middle and forefinger. Gabe plucked it from the cowboy’s hand triumphantly, tucking it into his jacket pocket before turning back to the two girls. 

“You put a bet on me,” Val asked, eyebrows raised in surprise, feigning offense as she looked towards the cowboy. He shrugged, tucking his wallet away again. 

“In my defense, it was his idea,” Jesse shot back at Reyes, smirking when the commander rolled his eyes. “You can’t win a bet if you’re bettin’ on the same outcome. That’s not really a bet.”

“He’s just trying to save face,” Reyes retorted blithely, ignoring McCree’s protests. “Regardless, I’m glad you took my offer.”

Val nodded in response, wanting to tell him how grateful she was, but decided to save it—she was sure there was a better time than in front of her colleagues. He seemed to note the appreciation in her eyes; however, and gave her a small smile in acknowledgement. 

Reyes dispersed everyone after that, pulling McCree to the side once everyone turned back to what they were doing. Val moved back to the edge of the mat, slipping her boots back on and taking her gloves off, shoving them in her jacket pockets. She felt a soft hand on her shoulder and she looked up, finding Cruz standing behind her. 

“I’m Amelia, by the way. Cruz is just easier to say when we do callouts, so that’s usually what sticks. You can call me either. Jensen usually goes by Xavier off-duty. Genji isn’t guaranteed to respond either way.” 

“I get a feeling Val will stick. My last name is three syllables,” Val huffed, turning towards Cruz. “Either works, though.” 

She nodded, smiling. Jensen and Genji made their way over towards the girls as well, though Genji kept his distance, standing more off to the side, seemingly eyeing McCree, who was still speaking with Reyes on the other side of the room. Eventually the cowboy resorted to just nodding in response to whatever the Blackwatch commander was talking about, finally heading back over to them once Gabe released him. 

“Did he chew your ass out for letting the newbie go up against Cruz without supervision and a medic on standby,” Jensen sneered once the cowboy was within earshot. 

“I wasn’t gonna hurt her, pendejo (asshole),” Cruz scoffed, raising an unamused eyebrow and glaring daggers at him, but he just grinned in response. “Not severely, anyway.” 

“ _ I  _ was the supervision, first of all. I knew she could hold her own after the first round,” Jesse replied, stopping to stand beside Val, glancing at her kindly before turning back to his teammates. “And no, Reyes wants us to run a few sims before the infiltration mission next week and…” He turned back to Val, resting a gloved hand on her shoulder. “He wants you to train with us.” 

“Перепрошую (excuse me),” Val stuttered incredulously, looking up at the cowboy in surprise, taking in a startled breath. “I’ve only been here for a few weeks.”

“Jus’ so you can get some experience and see how things work ‘round here,” Jesse replied, laughing at the terrified look on her face. “Don’t worry ‘bout it too much. We’ll show you the ropes.” 

“You’ll just be a little bit ahead of the other new recruits,” Jensen offered with a shrug. “I’m sure Reyes just wants to see if you precede the small reputation you’ve built.”

“To be fair,” Cruz snorted, bumping her hip with Val’s goodnaturedly. “You’re off to a good start.” 

Val looked between them all skeptically before letting out a breath she didn’t realize she had been holding. Jensen and Genji seemed indifferent to her decision, Cruz looked almost eager, but Jesse was looking at her almost fondly, his brown eyes reflecting something akin to appreciation, seemingly gently coaxing her. Finally, she acquiesced, nodding in confirmation. 

“Not that you had a choice—it’s an order,” Jesse teased, gently turning her towards the door. “Let’s go.”

***

Reyes was waiting for them once they reached the control room of the practice range, looking up at a large holovid reflected on the wall, another agent sitting in a padded chair beside him and seemingly adjusting the settings. The commander looked up as they entered, raising a surprised eyebrow when he saw Val in tow. 

“You managed to convince her?”

“I thought you said it was an order,” Val chided, glaring at Jesse as he headed past her towards Gabe with Cruz, Jensen, and Genji in tow. 

“It was a strong  _ suggestion _ ,” Jesse replied with a shrug, looking up at the holovid and scanning it quickly before turning back around. “That’s basically an order around here.” 

“Good to know.” 

“I had them prep the simulation before you got here. Get geared up,” Reyes ordered, nodding his head towards a door to their right. “Yovenko, I want a sniper rifle in your hands. Let’s see what you’ve got.” 

“Yes sir,” Val affirmed with a nod, following the group of senior agents through the door once it slid open, looking around in amazement once she stepped inside the room. 

Weapons of various sizes and calibers lined the walls and floated just above the surface of the two tables at the center of the room, the stream of red lights that wove their way around the floor highlighting the room mysteriously. The Blackwatch logo was printed neatly on the back wall between what looked like two elevators, the red eyes of the skull at the center bearing down on her, causing her to almost balk. 

An intense feeling of intimidation overtook her, especially when she considered her company, but she had to fight the want to turn tail and run. She had earned her place. She just had to prove she actually deserved it. 

The sniper rifle felt heavy, but comfortable in Val’s gloved hands. She glanced down the scope, adjusting it to fit her preferences before grabbing extra ammo and attaching it to one of her belts. The others around her hustled about, grabbing what they needed. Val watched Genji detached a katana and a wakizashi from the wall, the blades glinting an eerie red, tucking them neatly into the sheathes on his back He also reached up to tuck what appeared to be a faceplate over the lower half of his head, before making his way towards the right elevator, leaning against the wall and keeping his eyes glued to the floor. 

McCree plucked the six-shooter Val had seen him tuck away the first time they met off the wall next to where Genji’s swords had been, examining the barrel and nodding in satisfaction before tucking it into his holster. Both Cruz and Jensen pulled standard assault rifles off the tables, loading them and strapping more ammo on their persons before gathering next to Genji. Val approached from behind them and they made space for her, allowing for them to enter the elevator side by side once it opened. 

Jesse handed her an earpiece once they had settled inside and she tucked it in her ear, jumping when Gabe started talking almost immediately as they headed downward. 

“Alright—mission is in a few days. Last run through wasn’t as smooth as it should’ve been, so let’s try this again,” Reyes started, sounding slightly disgruntled. “The added challenge being you need to work around another team member this time. Yovenko, stay on the perimeter and pick off flankers and stragglers—keep their path clear.”

“Yes sir,” everyone in the elevator echoed, weapons tucked tightly to their sides as the elevator slid to a smooth stop. Val gripped her sniper rifle tighter, attempting to still the shaking of her hands as the doors slid open, revealing a dark corridor that extended to the left and right. 

The entire squad stepped out, settling into a basic formation with Val at the rear, looking around futilely as her vision adjusted. 

“Since the layout of this sim matches the actual building we’re infiltrating, that means there’s another hallway to our right,” Cruz started quietly, her voice echoing through the earpiece. “Yovenko, flank right and take another left at the end of that hallway. The corridor you’ll be walking down has windows that overlook the area we’re moving to. Cover us if needed.” 

“Heard.” She followed Cruz’s instructions, keeping her footsteps quiet as she moved down the hallway, looking left and right when she got to the end before hanging another left. As Cruz had told her, the left side of the hallway was ceiling to floor windows that overlooked what appeared to be a loading hanger. Crates lined the walls, sure to impede the group’s movement and their line of sight; she realized she would have to be their eyes from above. She moved down the hallway quickly, attempting to getting a better view of the situation, watching as the other four descended the stairs into the hanger, moving around the crates cautiously, checking their corners with their guns drawn. 

Movement across the hanger caught her attention and she crept closer in the shadows of the hallway, watching as a group of generated enemies moved towards the squads position, their bodies made of a translucent blue matter similar to the barriers she had seen Overwatch agents and tanks use. She raised her sniper rifle, taking aim at them as they moved, counting them. 

“Five targets moving towards your location,” she murmured into the comms, watching as their assailants split up. “Two moved left around the crates two rows in front of your current position. Another two went right. The fifth is moving up the stairs towards the upper balcony on the left.”

“Yovenko—take out the one on the balcony. McCree, Genji flank right. Cruz and Jensen flank left,” Gabe replied in kind and everyone moved in accordance, the group splitting around the containers and Val taking aim down the scope of her rifle, finger resting on the trigger. 

She tracked the bot’s head, holding her breath as she lined up the crosshairs, exhaling and pulling the trigger. The window in front of her shattered as the bullet pierced it, followed by the bot’s translucent body disappearing into thin air after the blow connected with it’s head. She heard other gunfire echo from below and she watched as the squad took down their targets. 

Val’s eyes widened when she saw Genji dashing about, realizing McCree wasn’t kidding when he said the ninja was fast, his shurikens bouncing off of the crates. Cruz and Jensen’s sprayed bullets at their pair of enemies, gunning them down. Then her eyes went to McCree, who took the bot in front of him down with a shot to the chest, then a shot to the head as it rounded the corner—his shots quick and precise and his steps never faltering. 

The next few waves were small—Val counted them easily and called them out, her shots lining up like they were supposed to, pride swelling in her chest. The group below moved forward towards the stairwell on the opposite side of the room from where they started and Val followed them above, her brow furrowing when she caught movement to her right in her peripheral vision. 

The sniper turned, watching as two bots made their way swiftly towards her down the hall, already a little too close for comfort; she raised her sniper rifle rather clumsily, taken by surprise, managing to plant a shot in the chest of the bot on the right, taking it out. A bullet came flying out of the stairwell, taking the other one down before she could, causing it to disappear as well. 

“Make sure you keep an eye out for yourself, too,” McCree said as he appeared out of the stairwell, reloading his gun as he rounded the corner with the rest of the group in tow. “Tunnel vision is a silent killer.”

“Being a sniper makes you a high priority target, too,” Cruz advised as Val approached, giving Val an encouraging smile. “Any shot you take won’t go unnoticed.” 

Val took the advice in stride and the group was quick to move on, Val following closely, glancing behind them to make sure they weren’t being followed. They hung a right and then another left, taking down any bots in their way as they went. Reyes was quiet for the most part and Val wasn’t entirely sure if that was a good thing or bad thing, but everyone seemed to be landing their shots and they were making good progress. 

They finally came upon a door at the end of the next hallway and everyone in front of her slowed their pace, guns raised as the door flew open.  _ Armed  _ bots came at them this time, the orbs of light they fired biting through her armor and into her skin, leaving behind a stinging sensation, electricity moving up and down her arm—but it was nothing she couldn’t work through. Aiming over Jesse’s shoulder, she took down two bots on the right, spinning on her heel when she heard footsteps echo from behind her, pulling the trigger and taking down one of the two bots that had flanked them from behind. 

The other bot rushed the sniper, but she was quick to slam the butt of her gun into its head, causing it to crumple to the ground and disappear into the air like the others before. Turning again, she moved forward behind Cruz, watching as the enemies in front of them dwindled until they were able to pass peacefully through the door into what looked like a control room. 

The simulation dissolved around them and Val’s violet eyes widened in astonishment as the walls faded, bright lights invading her vision. She flinched, bringing her hand up to shield her face as her vision adjusted to the abrupt change. Once she could discern her surroundings, she found that she was standing near the center of a sealed room, the black walls lined with geometric rivulets that she would later find out had light particles flowing through them. She looked around in wonder, trying to make sense of what kind of simulation room it was. 

“Hard light technology stolen from Vishkar,” Jesse’s voice rang out from behind her, seeing her bewildered look. “Figured we’d put it to use since we had the means.” 

McCree examined her as he approached, a small smile gracing his lips as he watched her expression change to one of awe as the last light particles faded out, leaving them in semi-darkness again. She seemed genuinely amazed, her glowing violet eyes full of a refreshing appreciation he hadn’t seen in anyone he knew in a long time. It was cute. 

“So you can just… change it whenever and however you want,” Val asked, looking towards the cowboy curiously. “Shape it into whatever layout you need?” She tilted her head when she asked the question, a gesture he would soon find endearing.

“Basically—yeah,” he replied, shaking his head to keep his gaze from lingering too long, tucking Peacekeeper away into his holster. “Every hallway and corridor we just moved through was modeled after the building we’re infiltrating in a few days.”

”We can shape light particles into whatever shape we need, including walls and enemies,” Jensen interjected, flipping the safety on his gun as he walked past the two of them. “Likely won’t go that nicely, though, knowing how the past few run throughs before this one went.”

“Looks like all any of you needed was someone to look over your shoulder for you,” Reyes finally spoke through the comms, his voice tinged with amusement. “Regardless, that was smooth—nicely done.” 

The rest of the squad let out an almost relieved sigh at Reyes’ praise, the tension between everyone almost lifting and the apprehension disappearing. 

“But don’t get too comfortable—run it again to prove it wasn’t a fluke.” 

_ That  _ made everyone groan. Val couldn’t help, but laugh, flipping the safety on her gun and throwing it over her shoulder as she followed everyone out of the room to reset, feeling almost at home for the first time in months with a gun in her hands and Blackwatch’s finest at her side. 

***

The other scenarios they ran together  over the next few days went smoothly as well—she hadn’t expected to be invited back each time, but it seemed Reyes was impressed with her performance, and she hoped it showed him how grateful she was that he took a chance on her. 

Val wished them luck on the final day before the operation was scheduled, glaring at Jesse when he ruffled her hair playfully, cheekily remarking that he’d stubbornly stay alive if it meant he could come back and see her cute face again. She had rolled her eyes, but couldn’t help the slight blush that colored her cheeks as she walked away, though Cruz’s earlier words echoed in her head and she didn’t think much of his remark after that. 

That evening; however, she got a message she wasn’t expecting, Athena alerting her to the notification as she stepped out of the shower, throwing a towel around her hair before moving to the holovid on the desk in the corner of her room near the window, swiping open the memo. Her heart leapt into her throat when she saw that it was from Reyes, wondering what he could possibly want. The message just asked her to meet him in his office in half an hour and her heart skipped a beat—had she done something wrong?

The agent got dressed quickly, pulling her damp hair into a messy bun before sliding her boots on and moving quickly down the hall towards Reyes office. It was surprisingly quiet and she passed few people on her way, finally spotting the door to her Commander’s office, approaching it apprehensively before knocking lightly. A low ‘come in’ echoed from the other side and the door slid open, prompting Val to step inside. 

The office was surprisingly spacious—though she was sure they would afford the commander no less than the bet they could offer. The entire back wall was made up of ceiling to floor windows, with Gabe’s desk sitting just in front of the windows at the center of the room. Two armchairs sat in front of his desk facing inward towards where the commander was seated. Otherwise, the walls were sparsely decorated, with the Blackwatch logo printed on the right wall and a few filing cabinets pressed against the left wall in the corner opposite the windows. 

Reyes looked up as she entered, smiling slightly, the gesture calming her nerves a bit. 

“That was quick,” he noted, setting whatever he was working on previously aside and motioning for her to sit down. “Hopefully I can count on you being punctual tomorrow morning.”

“Tomorrow morning?” 

“I want you on this mission with us,” Gabe replied, watching as she sat, her eyes widening in surprise. “I can’t deny that you were exactly what they needed: an extra set of competent hands and eyes. You’re aim is a plus”

“Did you expect any less,” Val asked, the words slipping out before she could stop herself. “...sir.”

“Of course not,” Gabe laughed in reply, sitting back in his chair. “I only expect the best from my agents. I asked you to come here for a reason. You’ve certainly made the best of a bad situation.” 

“I’ve been meaning to thank you,” Val murmured somberly, the circumstances surrounding her arrival coming to the forefront of her mind again. She had been suppressing the memories, not ready to come to terms with them yet. She still saw her sister’s pale face in her nightmares and she could sometimes feel Alina’s blood on her hands. 

“No need. I know potential and spirit when I see it—couldn’t let it go to waste,” Gabe admonished lightheartedly, lifting her mood a bit again. “You’ve shown you’re more than grateful. Keep it up and I’ll believe you.”

She nodded, a small smile making its way onto her lips. From afar it had seemed as if Reyes was harsh and critical—he commanded great respect from his soldiers and had high expectations, but Val somehow respected him even more now that she knew he wasn’t  _ too  _ much of a hardass. The atmosphere in the room was almost relaxed and Val let out a bated breath. 

“Hanger A—0500. I’m sure if you get lost Jesse would be happy to show you the way,” the commander chided, chuckling when she rolled her eyes. “He’s taken a shine to you.”

“I’ve noticed,” she replied exasperatedly, shaking her head. “He’s… sweet.”

“He’s a good kid. Just wait until you see him in action. His aim is like nothing I’ve ever seen.”

“Is that why he’s here?”

“I’ll let him tell you that story.” 

Val eyed the Blackwatch commander, raising an eyebrow, but Reyes just shrugged, motioning towards the door. 

“Dismissed. They’ve already started making bets that you’ll be late, so for your sake, don’t be.” 

Val laughed this time, standing and moving towards the door, stopping as it slid open and looking over her shoulder. 

“Can I make a request,” she asked, looking over her shoulder at Gabe again, his brown eyes glowing in the evening light. He raised an eyebrow, motioning for her to continue. 

“The people I left behind—is there anything you can do for them?” 

“I can look into it.”

“Thank you.”


End file.
